The Verdict

David Mamet, Barry Reed

Description

Based on novel

Sujets

• Dráma

Informations

• Publié par: script-cinema
• Publié le: 01 janvier 1982
• Nombre de lectures: 2
• Licence : En savoir +
  Paternité, pas d'utilisation commerciale, partage des conditions initiales à l'identique
• Langue: English

Extrait

"THE VERDICT"

Screenplay by

David Mamet

Shooting Draft

INT. FIRST FUNERAL PARLOR - DAY

A working-class funeral in progress. THIRTY PEOPLE and an inexpensive bier SEEN from the back of the hall.

ANGLE

A MAN's back FILLS the SCREEN. He is dressed in a black suit; his hands are clasped behind him. ANOTHER MAN stands next to him. The Second Man reaches behind the First Man's back and puts a discreetly folded ten-dollar bill into his hands.

ANGLE

These Two Men from the front. Both somber, in their early fifties. They begin to walk down the aisle of the funeral parlor.

ANGLE

The WIDOW. A woman in her late fifties sitting by the bier receiving condolences. The Two Men approach her. The First Man (the recipient of the money) speaks:

FUNERAL DIRECTOR

Mrs. Dee, this is Frank Galvin -- a very good friend of ours, and a very fine attorney.

GALVIN

It's a shame about your husband, Mrs. Dee.

The Widow nods.

GALVIN

I knew him vaguely through the Lodge. He was a wonderful man. (shakes head in sympathy) It was a crime what happened to him. A crime. If there's anything that I could do to help...

GALVIN removes a business card from his jacket pocket and hands it to her as if he were giving her money. (i.e., "Take it. Really. I want you to have it..." She takes the card.

Beat.

GALVIN

(thoughtfully realizes he is usurping her time) Well...

He shakes her hand and moves on.

INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

Galvin sitting in the deserted coffee shop in his raincoat.

Reading a section of the paper. He picks up his teacup, drinks. Lowers it to the table.

ANGLE - INSERT

Galvin twists tea bag around a spoon to extract last drops of tea. His hand moves to his felt pen lying on the table.

He moves his hand to the paper, open at the obituary section.

We SEE several names crossed out. He circles one funeral listing.

ANGLE

Galvin sitting, raises cup of tea to his lips. Looks around deserted coffee shop. Sighs.

INT. SECOND FUNERAL HOME AND STREET - AFTERNOON

Galvin outside a second funeral home. WORKING-CLASS PEOPLE entering, Galvin enters the home.

ANGLE

Galvin, coming down the aisle toward the front, shrugging himself out of his overcoat, he approaches the BEREAVED WIDOW sitting by the front of the home, he extracts his card from his pocket, starts to speak. He is stopped by the WIDOW'S SON, a hefty man in his mid-forties, who interjects himself between Galvin and the widow.

SON

(of the card)

What is that...?

GALVIN

I...

SON

What the hell is that...

GALVIN

...I was a friend of your fa...

SON

You never knew my father. (hits card out of Galvin's hand) You get out of here, who the hell do you think you are...

The FUNERAL MANAGER hurries down the aisle, and starts extricating Galvin from the commotion.

GALVIN

(to Funeral Manager)

I'm talking to this man...

FUNERAL MANAGER

Excuse me, Mrs. Cleary...

He is manhandling Galvin toward the back of the funeral parlor. The Son calls after him:

SON

Who the hell do you think you are?

EXT. SECOND FUNERAL PARLOR - AFTERNOON

The Funeral Manager and Galvin standing in the cold.

FUNERAL MANAGER

I don't want you coming back here. Ever. Do you understand?

GALVIN

I was just talking to...

FUNERAL MANAGER

Those are bereaved people in there.

The Funeral Manager gives Galvin a small shove, and goes back to his post at the door, greeting the entering mourners.

"Good evening..."

ANGLE

Galvin, the ground cut out from under him. Standing watching the mourners enter.

EXT. SECOND FUNERAL STREET - DUSK

Galvin walking down a residential street. He has been walking a while in the cold, snowy night. He stops for a stoplight at a corner, waits for the light although there is no traffic.

Lights a cigarette. The light changes. He looks both ways and irresolutely starts across the street. He stops. He checks his watch. He sighs, and starts back in the opposite direction.

INT. O'ROURKE'S BAR - NIGHT

Galvin holding forth at the bar of a seedy drinking-man's establishment, THREE DRINKERS, acquaintances, standing around him, appreciative.

GALVIN

Pat says, 'Mike... there's a new bar, you go in, for a half a buck you get a beer, a free lunch, and then take you in the back room and they get you laid.'

The bartender, JIMMY, comes up to Galvin.

JIMMY

Another, Frank...?

GALVIN

(gestures to include group) ...everybody. Mike says, 'Pat, you mean to tell me for a buck you get a free lunch and a beer, and then you go in the back and get laid?' 'That's correct.' Mike says, 'Pat. Have you been in this bar ?' Pat says, 'No, but my sister has...' (gestures to Jimmy) Everyone. Buy yourself one too.

INT. GALVIN'S OFFICE - NIGHT

The seedy, disorganized small office, Galvin in shirt-sleeves opening a file cabinet. He takes out an armload of files, carries them to a wastebasket and throws them in. He sits on his desk, as if exhausted by his effort, pours from a whiskey bottle into a large water glass, downs the glass.

He has been drinking for some time. He starts stumbling back to the file cabinet. On the way his eye is caught by his degrees hanging on the wall. He stumbles to them, picks them up and walks over to the wastebasket and throws them in. He goes back to the file cabinet, the phone starts ringing. Galvin lets it ring, continues emptying the files into the wastebasket, tearing some of them up as he does so.

He repeats softly to himself, as a litany, "It doesn't make a bit of difference, it doesn't make a bit of difference..." He starts back to the desk for the bottle, knocks the still- ringing phone off the desk. He pours himself a drink.

As he downs it we hear -- softly -- from the phone on the floor: a MAN'S VOICE. "Frank. Frank. Frank. Goddamnit. Are you there...? Frank..." Galvin pays no attention.

Drinks his drink and gazes at the wall -- now empty of degrees.

ANGLE - P.O.V.

The empty wall. Galvin's P.O.V. The telephone heard Voice Over insisting, "Frank..."

INT. GALVIN'S OFFICE ANTEROOM - NIGHT

MICKEY MORRISSEY, a man in his late sixties, dressed in suit and overcoat, looking worried, unlocks the door to the dark anteroom. Looks around. Sees something in the next room.

ANGLE - P.O.V.

Galvin asleep on his couch, clothed as before. Covered in his overcoat, the bottle and glass next to the couch on the floor, the sound of the phone off the hook.

ANGLE

Mickey walks into the office. Stands looking at Galvin.

MICKEY

(harshly)

Get up. (beat, more harshly) Get up.

Galvin wakes up. Looks around. Swings his legs over the couch. Drinks from the glass. Vacantly:

GALVIN

Hi, Mickey...

MICKEY

What the hell do you think you're doing...? (surveys the wrecked office) What's going on here...?

GALVIN

Uh...

MICKEY

Fuck you. I got a call today from Sally Doneghy...

GALVIN

...now who is that...?

MICKEY

...You're 'sposed to be in court in ten days and she's telling me you haven't even met with them...

GALVIN

Sally Doneghy, now who is that?

MICKEY

One lousy letter eighteen months ago... I try to throw a fuckin' case your way...

GALVIN

...hey, I don't need your charity...

MICKEY

...I get these people to trust you -- they're coming here tomorrow by the way -- I get this expert doctor to talk to you. I'm doing all your fuckin' legwork -- and it's eighteen months. You're 'sposed to be in court. I bet you haven't even seen the file.

Galvin pours himself a drink.

GALVIN

Hey, what are you, my nanny?

Mickey walks to him, knocks the drink out of his hand and slaps him several times in the face.

MICKEY

Listen to me. Listen to me... listen to me, Frank, 'cause I'm done fuckin' with you. I can't do it any more. Look around you: You think that you're going to change? What's going to change it? You think it's going to be different next month? It's going to be the same. And I have to stop. This is it. I got you a good case, it's a moneymaker. You do it right and it will take care of you. But I'm through. I'm sorry, Frank, this is the end. (beat) Life is too short, and I'm too old. (beat)

Mickey walks out of the office. Slams the door. Beat.

Galvin looks around the office. Goes to his sofa. Sits, reaches to side table.

ANGLE - INSERT

The side table, a pack of Luckies. Galvin taking one, his hand shaking a little. Also on side table a pile of change containing a small rosary and a wedding ring.

INT. GALVIN'S OFFICE ANTEROOM - INSERT - DAY

The carriage of a typewriter. A sheet of paper. Its letterhead reads "Frank P. Galvin. Attorney at Law, 124 State Street, Boston, Mass. 02981. Cable FRAGAL." Someone is typing, "Sorry I had to go out. Back at 10. Judge Geary called. Are you available for lunch Wednesday University Club?" A hand takes a paper from carriage and puts it on desk. Takes a pen and signs, "Claire."

ANGLE

Galvin in the anteroom, dressed in his suit, unshaved, having just signed the paper. He takes a piece of Scotch tape from the dispenser on the desk, picks up a file folder from the coffee table. It is torn in several places and rudely Scotch- taped.

ANGLE - P.O.V. - INSERT

The file headed Deborah Ann Kaye v. St. Catherine Laboure Hospital et. al.

ANGLE

Galvin surveys the anteroom, opens door to corridor, Scotch tapes the note he has just typewritten to the outside of the door.

INT. O'ROURKE'S BAR - DAY

Dark paneling, clean, simple. A drinkers' bar. OLD BARTENDER and THREE CUSTOMERS spaced widely, Galvin in his overcoat downing a shot, the file open before him. He is reading.

He checks his watch, scoops the file together under his arm, throws a dollar on the bar, and heads for the door.

INT. NORTHERN NURSING HOME CORRIDOR - DAY

Galvin walking tentatively down the corridor of a very rundown nursing home. He receives suspicious looks from the Attendants. He is checking numbers on the doors against a notation in the file. He finds the correct door and enters.

INT. NURSING HOME WARD - DAY

The door to the ward from the inside. Galvin opening the door to the dark ward, backlit, tentative, a little unsteadied from his drinking. He puts his back against the door, puts down file and briefcase, extracts a small cheap Polaroid camera from the briefcase, readies it to shoot, picks up his paraphernalia, and starts off down the ward. As he walks down the ward he checks the file hung at the foot of each bed. Galvin stops at the foot of one bed and reads the chart.

ANGLE - P.O.V.

The chart held by Galvin. DEBORAH ANN KAYE, various medical notations. He lowers the chart and we SEE in the bed beyond it a shriveled, tiny form stuck with needles and tubes.

ANGLE

Galvin replaces the chart, puts his file, briefcase, etc. on the foot of the bed, takes a flash photo of the figure in the bed. Takes another one. Puts down camera, sits on the end of the bed gazing at the unseen form. He lights a cigarette, and sits looking at her.

INT. CORRIDOR - GALVIN'S OFFICE BUILDING - DAY

SALLY DONEGHY. A mousy woman in her forties is standing by a door on which is written, "Frank P. Galvin. Attorney at Law."

GALVIN

I'm... Mrs. Doneghy? I'm Frank Galvin... why didn't you go in?

SALLY

It's locked.

GALVIN

(astonished)

It's locked?

Sally Doneghy points to the note on the door. Galvin takes it from the door. Reads. "Back at 10, Judge Geary. Lunch..."

GALVIN

I'm terribly sorry... I hope we didn't put you out. Won't you come in...? (motions Sally into inner office, gestures with note) I'd offer you some coffee, but it looks like my girl just went out.

INT. OFFICE ANTEROOM - DAY

Galvin is perched at his secretary's desk. Sally Doneghy across from him by the coffee table listening intently.

GALVIN

It's not a good case. It's a very good case.

GALVIN

A healthy young woman goes into the hospital to deliver her third child, she's given the wrong anesthetic...

SALLY

...we, we love her, Dick and me...

GALVIN

...I'm sure you do...

SALLY

But what can we do? She don't know who's visiting her...

GALVIN

...I know. I went...

SALLY

...You saw her?

GALVIN

Yes. Yes, I have.

SALLY

You know how beautiful she was? (beat) Her husband left her, and he took her kids... They, they, they'd let you die in there. They don't care. Nobody cares. The Patriot Home, the Chronic Care... in Arlington...? They'd take her in. Perpetual care. They'd take her. Fifty thousand dollars they want. An endowment.

GALVIN

...fifty thousand dollars?

SALLY

I don't want to leave her. Dick... the, the... and Father Laughlin, he said that it was God's will...

GALVIN

...I understand...

SALLY

My doctor told me that I got to move out West... that's when we filed in court. We didn't want to sue...

GALVIN

...I understand...

SALLY

...But Dick, he's looking for two years in Tucson... and they called him up and said to come out. He's a good man. He's only trying to do what's right.

The door to the corridor opens and DICK DONEGHY, a workingman in his forties, comes into the room. Sally and Galvin stand.

SALLY

This is my husband.

Donegy and Galvin shake hands uncomfortably. He motions the two to sit.

GALVIN

Please sit down. I told your wife. I'm sorry that we have to meet out here. I've got a case coming in two days in the Superior Court and my office is a mess of papers.

DONEGHY

...that's all right.

GALVIN

I was telling your wife, we have a very good case here.

SALLY

He saw her at the Northern Care...

GALVIN

...and I have inquiries out to doctors, experts in the field... there is, of course, a problem getting a doctor to testify that another doctor's negligent...

DONEGHY

...the Archdiocese called up, they said who was our attorney, 'cause the case is coming to trial...

GALVIN

I doubt we'll have to go to trial...

DONEGHY

...we told them we didn't want it to come out this way.

GALVIN

I completely understand...

DONEGHY

We just...

SALLY

We just can't do it anymore. (beat) This is our chance to get away.

GALVIN

I'm going to see you get that chance.

DONEGHY

What is this going to cost?

GALVIN

It's completely done on a contingency basis. That means whatever the settlement is I retain one-third... that is, of course, the usual arrangement...

INT. BISHOP BROPHY'S SUITE - INSERT DAY

Yellowed newspaper clipping, a very lovely, patrician woman in her twenties smiling at a well-turned-out Galvin around thirty. Headline: "Patricia Harrington to Wed."

ALITO (V.O.)

His name is Frank Galvin. B.U. Law, class of 'fifty-two. Second in his class. Editor of the Law Review. Worked with Mickey Morrissey twelve years. Criminal Law and Personal Injury...'

A hand turns a page and reveals a second clipping: "Boston Lawyer Held in Jury Tampering Case," with a picture of a very confused Galvin at around forty-five being led to jail.

ALITO

'Married Patricia Harrington, nineteen sixty...'

ANGLE

The small, sumptuously appointed Italianate office.

French windows, a fire in the grate, a view of Boston Common, JOSEPH ALITO, a slender, elegant man in his forties dressed in a very expensive suit, reading from his notes, news clippings, etc., which are held in a leather folder.

ALITO

'Joined Stearns, Harrington, Pierce nineteen sixty as a full partner. Resigned the firm nineteen sixt-ynine over the Lillibridge case...' Do you...?

Alito, strolling as he reads, moves toward the windows with his file TO REVEAL BISHOP BROPHY, a self-contained man in his early sixties, sitting on a leather couch, listening.